Impending Romances
by EdwardBellaLuv4ever
Summary: When Mary Alice Brandon is exiled to Worcester State Hospital in Massaschusetts because of her visions of the future, she meets the stunningly beautiful caretaker, Willam. As their lives intertwine, Mary learns that Willam has a dark secret. Read&Review!
1. Prologue: Darkness

_**Visions in Darkness**_

Make the screaming top. Make the screaming stop. Make the screaming stop. Make the screaming top. Making the screaming stop. Make it stop, make it stop!

I tried to shut out the people in my head, that weren't in the cold, black, silent room I sat in now. I tried to stop seeing my mother being beaten by my father. I tried not to hear the screaming that wasn't really there.

The vision in my mind ended abruptly, with my mother lying on the wood floor with a bleeding lip. This vision would become true in approximately 12 hours, 32 minutes, and 54 seconds. I hated knowing this. I hated myself for what was wrong with me.

I was never going to watch Cynthia grow up. I couldn't be there to comfort her when our mother would be murdered in cold blood 22 months from next Tuesday. I was never going to meet the love of my life, and I was never going to get married. I was never going have a child of my own. I was never going to sit on a porch surrounded my grandchildren. I was never going to live a happy and wonderful life.

Instead I was going to die here, in this silent cold wet, black, room. One day my supervisor, who shoved food in my cell 3 times a day and undo my stray jacket, would find me lying dead and alone. I would be cold to the bone, I would have no heartbeat, and most of all—thankfully—no visions.

I hated the visions. These terrorizing vicious visions were going to be my demise. They were the reason I was in this room, strapped into a jacket that tied my arms around myself, with no bed and only a toilet. I wasn't even sure there was a proper door.

I was just locked in here after the nurse checked me for disease and cut off my long black hair. I hadn't stepped outside the room since. I hadn't spoken a word since, or heard a word spoken. Except in my head. The only interaction I had with another person was when the nurse would come in without letting light in to undo my stray jacket for eating. I remembered the day my father and mother sent me here. We lived in Biloxi, in a small, quant house.

I was now in an asylum north of Philadelphia.

"Mary!" My father shouted at me as he watched my eyes glaze over and unfocused. He knew I was seeing something.

I saw a girl cutting my hair. My long black hair falling over my chest. The hair, looked so short I looked like my cousin John.

_The sight of me disappeared and I looked up to see my mother looking anxiously down at me and my father shaking with anger. I looked to the stairs to see my dear, baby sister—only 7 years old—sitting on the stairs, tears coming to her eyes. They were rimmed in red, and her plump perfect cheeks were shiny. The poor girl was crying. She hated when our parents were angry with me._

"_Yes?" I asked, turning back to my father._

"_That is enough!" He shouted. _

"_They come out of no where Papa! I can not control them!" I said quickly._

_Defending myself was the wrong thing to do. My father's face deepened in colour, and I cringed as his course hand struck my face. My eyes watered at the pain, and the flesh on my cheek burned from the hit._

_My mother simply watched him hit me. Not so much as wincing letting herself wince because she knew it would be the wrong thing to do. She loved me but she thought I was as much of a freak as my father, if not more. They were embarrassed to have me as a daughter now.. _

"That's is it! I cannot tolerate you anymore. You are wrong in the head! The devil possesses you! You are wrong in the head! You are unstable!" He shouted at me, saliva spewing out of his crooked yellowing teeth. He grabbed my arm and his fingers overlapped around them. I was small for a 15 year old girl. Cynthia nearly 9 years my junior was only a few inches shorter than myself. My father towered over me.

_He wrenched me to my feet and dragged me to the door._

"_Where are you taking her?" Cynthia cried. She ran to my and wrapped her arms around me and started pulling. I put up no fight. I knew I was being sent somewhere where the mad people went. Only I knew I wasn't mad. I just saw the future._

"_Away from here!" he spat. "Away from you!"_

"_NO!" Cynthia screamed. "She is my sister! She is your daughter! She can't leave!"_

_I suddenly had a vision of Cynthia in a white dress, smiling, and kissed a man with blonde hair and black eyes. He was very handsome. I realized they were getting married. When she walked by my father and young woman—who were smiling proudly with their hands clasped together—she glared and averted her attention away from them. Her behavior confused me . . ._

_I gasped when I felt my father's hand tighten around my numb arm and him strike my face again._

"_She is no daughter of mine." He said simply, and cruelly. He was grimacing so terribly it scared me. I felt as if I was having a glimpse into his soul, and it was a nasty one. "Come one. Alice, I will call you when I am on my way home."_

_I looked to my mother, and she was only staring at my blankly. I wondered if she was going to miss me. The thought of that made tears run down my face._

"_Please. I will be good. I will try to control the visions. Please, don't send me away." I begged her. I watched as her serene mask fell, and all the pain and shame showed in her beautiful face. She just shook her head once and looked away. Cynthia was sobbing as she watched this. I begged again. "Please."_

_And then they were gone. All went black. The next thing I knew I was being stripped to my bare body, and all my clothes being stuffed into a furnace. A lady in white took a hose from of the walls. I noticed that the walls were white, and tiled. She turned the hose on and freezing water shot out and lashed at my naked body. I gasped at the temperature, and watched as the women stood 10 feet away, soaking me. I tried to shield myself, form the pain of the cold, but all I got was wetter. _

_Suddenly the water disappeared and a nurse came and bent down in front of me. She grabbed my legs and spread them 12 inches apart._

"_Stay still." She snapped as I squirmed, and I watched as she took out something that looks like a giant spoon. The next thing I knew the object was gone and pain jolted all through my body. Then the pain disappeared again and the spoon reappeared. I realized what just happened, and whimpered like a dog._

_Everything went black again. Light reappeared as I watched the women who had tortured me with water and stuck the metal spoon into my body, cutting my hair with long sheers. My hair fell, and I cried as I watched. This was what I had seen just before my father had brought me here. My hair was uneven, choppy and looked like a bear mauled it. I felt as it was cut further down until it was only a light fuzz atop my head. My eyes were blood shot and purple bags around them made me look like a raccoon. The lady then stood me up and marched me down a hall, and we stopped in front of a wall that said 89. I didn't see how she did it but the wall slid away and behind it was black. She pushed me in. It happened so fast . . .she just yanked the door back to where it was before. Before I could protest, she was gone._

I felt tears roll down my cheeks, and I sobbed away. I hadn't seen any light since then. No natural light that came from the sun. I only saw in my head.


	2. Chapter 1: Open

**Chapter 1: Open**

I don't remember when I fell asleep exactly. I seemed to have lost track of time since I was put into this cell…I remember my last meal being shoved into the door, but I hadn't had an appetite, so I went to lying against the wall furthest from the dirty toilet I used. I scrambled, hungry, over to the direction of the door of my sensory deprived room. I found a tray already on the ground. Since I was in a stray jacket I could only eat like a dog. I only got unstrapped for dinner. I scarfed that down as fast as I could, I felt the hit the empty soar I called my stomach. I had just finished the nasty, awful tasting oatmeal when I heard grating noises against the outside of my cell. I had never heard a sound—aside from my tray being slid through a slot in the door—outside of this room for all the time I had been here. I estimated 2 years but I couldn't be sure.

I listened harder at the grating sound of metal sliding against more metal. I had hope for a moment that maybe I would get out of this god forsaken cell, but then fear shot through my system. It iced my veins and my heart nearly stopped. _What were they going to do to me? _I asked myself.

The metal grated against the concrete floor and piercing light exuded through he opening door. It burned my eyes. I hadn't seen it in so long, I wasn't used to it. I threw my arms around my head to cover my eyes, and scouted quickly to the corner of the cell. I whimpered when I heard the door connect to the edge of the doorframe, and footsteps approach me. Piercing light seeped in around my shielding arm, and brightness made my head ache and my eyes burn.

"Mary?" His voice called and his breath tickled against my bare neck. Possibly due to malnutrition my hair had hardly grown an inch since I had left here. I cringed from the sound of the soft voice.

Through my fright, I realized that this was the first sound that I had heard—aside from my tray scraping against the cool floor, or myself scuttling around—in years. Through my fright I heard my small voice sound for the first time too.

"Yes?" I asked, to my intense surprise, sounding strong. Hopefully not scary . . .

"How are you?" The male voice asked softly. He had a very pleasant voice, very smooth.

I looked up, curiosity breaking through the fright, to see the most beautiful man I had ever seen in all my years. He looked to be about 30 years of age, with dark blonde hair, perfectly angular cheekbones, a square jaw, and full lips. Eyes; big, black, beautiful eyes. His skin was a sickly white. He was probably just as pale as I was. I had always been naturally golden skinned, but I suspected with lack of light, my sun-touched skinned was leached to a grey pallor.

I couldn't speak at first. I was stunned into silence by his beauty.

"Mary?" The man shook me, and my teeth rattled against eachother. He most likely meant his voice to sound soft, muted, but the noise was loud in my ears. Not hearing things for so long had made me sensitive to noise.

_Don't respond strangely Mary they may just shut the door again_. I told myself, and the forced a response out of my lips. "I'm fine." I whispered shyly, keeping my eyes hidden. If I looked at him again, I wouldn't be able to concentrate.

"Good. Do you feel anxious?" the man asked.

I shook my head in a daze. I couldn't quite absorb what he was asking me

"It is normal to be sensitive to sound after being in a sensory deprivation room for so long" He informed me but didn't seem to want to tell me how long I had been in what he called "sensory deprivation".

"How long have I been here?" I pressed. He looked away, but in the second he was in line of my sight; I saw how surprised he was hear me speak. I was surprised myself. The sound pierced my ears. Everything was shocking me, though I felt like my mind was slower then I remember, and many things were dazed. The only thing that was clear was the perfect man in front of me.

"Would you like some breakfast?" He wondered, ignoring my question.

"How long have I been hear?" I asked again, my voice getting louder. Why wouldn't he answer me?

"Now, Mary, please don't loose your temper or I will have to sedate you." He cautioned and stood out of his crouch. He had very long legs; he seemed very long in general. Maybe it was because I was still on the ground.

"Please, just tell me how long I have been hear for?" I begged. My voice was feeble and weak. It was almost muted in my ears.

"I am not at liberty to tell you that, Mary." He mumbled, not pleased by that fact.

"Why? Why can you not tell me?" My voice a dead monotone.

"Well, because I don't want to upset you." He smiled, showing a set of perfect teeth. I was surprised how much more handsome he was when he smiled. I wouldn't have thought one could get any more beautiful then he already was.

"How long have I been in sensory deprivation? I won't get upset." I promised.

He sighed. "Three years in a month."

I gasped. I thought it was so much less. The man waited for me to settle myself without interruption.

"Oh. I thought it would be less." I whispered. My voice was sounding so small, so baby-like. I never remembered sounding so weak, and feeble. Even when I was getting frustrated my voice couldn't raise above a whisper.

"That's alright. So, would you like breakfast?" He repeated his question.

I nodded.

"That's a good girl." He smiled in approval. He crouched down again and wrapped his arms around me to help me up. His arms made me shiver; they were icy cold. "Up you get."

His casual touch was unexpected, and I tensed in myself. I slowly got to me feet. I felt as though I needed his support. My legs felt invisible. I couldn't remember the last time I actually stood.

"Are you strong enough to stand on your own?" He questioned.

I shook my head, staring at my stiff legs. My arms glued to my side by the jacket. My bare feet wear white, with an unhealthy gray tint. They were the only things on myself that I could see, and the colour itself showed just how unhealthy I was.

"My name is William, so you know." He said quietly, not expecting me to answer.

I felt a sturdy hand grip my arm and another wrap around my wasted. His hands were so cold it shocked me, but I was used to the cold, so I didn't shiver.

Willam kept me up straight as I wobbled weakly out of the cell. I didn't look back at the place I had spent 3 years of my life.

The lights were blindingly bright, and my head ached slightly like it was being pushed between to metal plates. It wasn't painful, rather it was just a dull pressure in my temples. Everything was insanely white, something I hadn't expected. I remembered that they had once been blue, maybe white, I couldn't remember…but not quite this bright, not so intense.

The bulbs were not dull like they would be in a normal house; they were bluer, harsher on the eyes. As I stepped out, I looked around myself. I was in a different place then the one I remembered. I quickly looked to the door that should have said _89_, but it didn't. It said _11_. Was I in a different cell? When had they moved me? What had they done to me?

The thought made me shiver. Willam seemed to notice. "It can get quite chilling in here." He advised. The prickling, tingle of cool air was so foreign to me; it took me a moment to connect Willam's word of chilly to my reaction to cool air.

I simply nodded.

"You won't be staying in this hall anymore. Would you like to go to your new room first?" Willam asked.

"Yes." I whispered. From one of the rooms down hall we were slowly leaving, I heard a blood-curdling scream. I cringed into Willam, the sound hurting my ears.

"Its alright." He comforted me.

It was hard to be comforted in this place. The lights were too bright. The walls, once white, now stained an odd yellow. The Hall was narrow, and had a stuffy, unpleasant smell, though while leaning into Willam more, the smaller was muffled by his.

It was glorious. He smelled like ambrosia. Possible better. He smelled like chocolate, and mint, and cinnamon. It was so sweet; it made my empty stomach curl in pleasure. My heart started to speed when I realized how close I was to such a wondrous creature. My heart took a beating from the intense pounding, it wasn't used to it.

Willam seemed to notice, and he sadly shifted me back to a normal standing position only keep an icy cool hand on mine.

"Sorry." I whispered. I kept my eyes away from his, and just kept walking down the hall. Twenty feet ahead, could see that a barred gate was being held aside for us. When we passed it, a woman in white shut the door and locked it behind us. Willam nodding passively to the nurse kept leading me forward. Within a matter of minutes we entered a much less decrepit hallway, with pale blue walls and a blue tiled floor. No more concrete walls, just normal wooden doors and wooden doorframes. Lots and lost of doors too.

Willam stopped in front of a room that had a little pink number painted on it. _5 _it read. So room number 5 was mine now.

"Mary, I believe that your room mate is in there. Here name is Ethel. Here at Byberry's State Hospital we like to pair some people together. Everyone that has a roommate lives in the C-11 quarters. Now, you must remember that Mary, all right? You live in the C-11 quarters, with Ethel. You are not allowed to leave your room at night, and a nurse will check your room every half hour to make sure you don't." Willam said slowly to me, as if I was an infant.

If I were still living in Biloxi, I would have protected my pride, and told him I understood without the theatrics. But I didn't. I felt like an infant just born. My hearing was slightly fuzzy, and my focus was elsewhere. I hadn't had to listen to anyone speak in years. Willam's slow clear words were only comprehensible after minutes of thought.

"Do you understand Mary?" Willam probed, ducking his head to make eye contact with me. He was so tall he almost had to kneel. When he didn't catch my eye, he tried again. "Mary?"

"Er, yes. Yes, I . . .understand." I nodded.

"Good" He smiled in return.

Something I had never felt before shot threw me then: electricity. His smile was blindingly perfect; it took my breath away. His beautiful face made it hard for me to see much else. Willam's smile made my long dormant nerves alive in one lonely second. And then the electricity was gone.

I smiled back weakly.

"Ethel is a very nice girl, and you must both treat each other with the utmost respect. You will be living together after all. There is some construction going on in the farther end of the lot, and some renovations being made in some of the other quarters, but nothing near you." Willam placed his hand on my choppy hair and said softly: "There won't be any big noises that hurt your precious ears, all right?"

His cold touch made my skin catch fire. I didn't really hear his words, but I knew they were reassuring, so I nodded.

"Lunch is in an hour, I'm sure Ethel will bring you out to the cafeteria when it is time. You have some therapy sessions during the day, but Ethel knows when they are. You have an hour at breakfast, and an hour at lunch and dinner to relax in the dayroom. No men are allowed in this quarter of the Hospital—"

"But you're a man, Willam—sir—Mr. Willam, sir." I mumbled and quickly corrected myself.

Willam chuckled softly. The sound was so much more delicate then the harsher sound I had heard in the past 30 minutes. "Mary, you can call me Willam. And I work at the hospital; I am your nurse, of sorts. I supervise the women's quarters' health." He said.

My eyebrows furrowed after a slight pause. "You're the doctor?" I asked confused.

"No, not exactly." Willam shook his head, and his black eyes seemed wary, as if he was waiting for something.

"I . . . Then what are you?" I whispered. My voice frail and weak.

"It isn't important Mary. You should go into your new room." He suggested and pointed towards the band door with the number _5_ written on it.

I took a small step towards the door. Willam put a cool and steady arm around my shoulders to keep me balanced. I was reaching for the door when my eyes unfocused and an image—an image not of the door in front of me—appeared. I saw Willam sitting across from me as I cried on a bed, and a girl maybe younger then me in the corner of the blue room we sat in. She cried too. But Willam sat in front of me, and watched me intently. He stared at my face with a softness I had never scene.

"Willam." I sobbed, his body snapped up straight immediately when I called to him. "Willam, please, I . . . I don't know what to do. I—I—I can not—" I stuttered.

Willam walked the two steps over to me bed and kneeled in front of me. "Alice . . . my beautiful little Alice." He whispered. His hand came up to curl around my face, his cold fingers nuzzling my cheekbone. "Shhh" he cooed, "don't cry, Alice, it will be all right."

I looked up into his red eyes, and sobbed harder, "How can this happen? Why must it be me?"

"I don't know, but I know how I can protect you." He whispered and the young girl crying near us gasped and looked up in shock at William.

"You do?" the young girl asked, her voice was soft, not piercing like her looks.

"I can change you."

And then the image was gone and I was there in front of the with the 5.

"Mary? Are you alright?" William's voice called form just behind me. His voice was anxious, and I felt his cold fingers lightly touch my elbow—which was clutching the door knob fiercely. The force seemed to make my frail body shake, and then I realized I was shivering. "Mary?"

What could a vision like that mean? Of all the things I had ever seen, I had never not understood what I saw. Nothing had ever been so hard to figure out…

"Yes. Yes I am alright." I whispered and began to turn the door knob again.

"There should be a pile of clothes in the set of drawers, and the white shoes besides the bed, those are yours." His voice was relieved but suspicious, I realized, and the curiousity burning to understand the vision won out over my bewilderment and I turned to look at him.

His eyes were flat black, not the strange crimson I had just seen…But he was pale the same way, and still as stone, even as he watched me. But looking at him didn't help with the confusion or the strange vision.

I sighed. "Thank you." I whispered, worried my voice would reveal how shocked I was.

"You are very welcome." He said, still slightly anxious.

I turned the knob of the door with a little trouble, and let myself in. It was the room from the vision…

White walls, and no windows, with two beds positioned next to each other that looked much less plush and comfortable then the one I had slept in back at my home 3 years prior to today… There were two cabinets sitting next to each other as well and a small desk with a chair in the far corner.

And then, sitting on the floor in the middle of the tiny white room was a young girl, and when she looked up, I realized she was the girl from my vision as well. It was my roommate, Ethel. Again the confusion from the vision shocked me, and my body swayed, already tired.

"So, you are my new roommate." The girl stated, her voice soft, just like I remembered. And just like I remembered, she was striking looked, with fiery red hair and amber coloured eyes. She sounded like a baby though she had to be about 16, if not 17.

"Yes, my name is Mary Brandon." I said, my voice slightly shaky.

"Ugh, I hate the name Mary. That was my mother's name. I won't be able to be around you if I have to hear that name everyday." She said, and she got to her feet easily. She was showing signs of curves coming in around her body. I wondered if I had curves yet, the last time I had seen my body, I was in an awkward adolescence stage.

The thought had me looking down at my arms. They were tiny little sticks, and my skin was grey, and sick looking.

"William said you would be distant, it seems he was right." She said, and then laughed, it sounded like a toddler laughing…I looked up and saw her walking towards me smiling.

"I haven't seen the light of day in three years, would you expect anything different from someone else?" I asked, on the defensive.

"No."

A silent moment passed, as I thought of what so say.

"I assume you are Ethel." I said, not really asking. Though the girl in front of my seemed charming, and beautiful, and had the voice of an angel, she seemed rather unpleasant.

"That is right, Ethel Victoria Mires. Thank god I don't have a Mary in my name. I was thinking we should probably change your name, what's your middle name?" She asked. Clearly I had no choice in the matter.

"I'm sorry, you want to change my name?" I asked, shocked.

"I am not going to call you Mary…." She said warily, like the word was pleasant to say in passing.

"Well my middle name is Alice." I mumbled, thinking of my mother.

"Alice…Alice…Alice? I rather like that. Its quite pretty you know." She grinned, flashing a huge smile at me. Despite her unpleasant aura I smiled in return. I hadn't smiled in a long time…

"Thank you."

"No problem, Alice."

"Will you really be calling my that all the time now?" I asked. I didn't actually mind the name so much, it was nicer then Mary, softer in a way.

"Yes!" She shouted suddenly, exasperated. I jumped in surprise. My body swayed again, and I knew I needed to sit if I was going to prevent passing out. My body was just so frail….I walked cautiously over to the bed and sighed as the soft bedding wrapped around my body. I was shocked that my feet touched the ground…. they never touched the ground when I was in my bed at home.

I was so wrapped up in the overwhelming feeling of how much I had changed… I was so disoriented, and so thin, and taller… I didn't notice that Ethel had come to sit on the bed—obviously hers—across from me.

"I may not look 17, but I am. I have been in here since I was 12. My mom used to beat me, a lot. She drank too much and I think something was wrong with her, in the head you know? I couldn't take it anymore, so I snapped one day and I poured got oil on her while she slept. She suffocated to death in the oil, and her face was so burnt they could hardly even see her mouth. The doctors say I am psychopathic, but I was just angry." She said each word matter-of-factly, like it was not frightening or out of the blue, this knowledge that she had intentionally killed her own mother.

I stared at her, not sure what I should say. I knew about two months after I came here that I was in an asylum. They called it a hospital, but the building was so huge and so windowless that it had to be something much worse then a hospital. I knew that I would be with people, surrounded by sick and unstable people. Everyone would be mad like me. I decided that I would respond by telling her why I was here.

"When I was 10 I started seeing things in my head. Not sinister things, not things of hell or heaven, but things that would happen, things that would come. I see visions of the future. When I was young I thought it was dreams, but as they came more often and more vivid I realized they were real ad that they were permanent. My sister, my mother and I kept them from my father until I was 12 when I knew that Cynthia would break her arm the next day, and then we told my father. He was a man of god, and very, very strict, and so he didn't take well to the visions. My mother simply hoped they would go away, and that we all wouldn't get a beating for keeping it form him. Anyways three years passed and though we kept them quiet he still knew they were there. Then one day he saw me have a vision, and he shipped me here. I have been here since I think, but I'm not sure. I'm 18 I think now…" I sighed, my voice breaking when I thought of how much I had aged. I had spent 3 years in this asylum, and had went form 15 to 18…I had grown without being able to watch myself do it.

"Goodness, that is much more interesting than my story, or my last roommates story. Or shall I say lie?" She said, more speaking to herself then to me.

"What is it you mean?" I wondered, for her words didn't make sense.

"Oh my last roommate was this old woman named Elisabeta. She had told me once we had been more then mere acquaintances that she had been put here undercover for the government to make sure that the patients were being necessarily treated. After I asked Willy, he said that I shouldn't believe what Elisabeta says because she is criminally delusional." Ethel sighed and crossed her arms. "Anyways, I asked her if it was true she was mad, and that she was lying….She didn't take my accusations very well. She got sent to the S buildings, and I got a new room mate. None the less you are much more interesting. I so hope you aren't lying."

"What are the S buildings?" I asked, intrigued.

Ethel smiled, "That's where you were. Its where the real looney tunes go."

"I…I wish I wasn't considered a lunatic. And I sincerely believe I am not…" I whispered.

Ethel didn't seem like the sort of girl to comfort, so her next words shocked me, "I feel as though many of us feel that way. I think some of us may be misunderstood, that just because we are different or because we made mistakes that don't have a reason that makes sense, we are assumed by 'professionals' that we are mentally unstable...So we are sent here…I know how you feel. I don't regret killing her, but I wish they would understand why. We aren't going to spend the rest of our life in ehre though. Things are changing. You should know that better then anyone." She leaned forward and patted my knee, and winked.

I couldn't help but smile. "Thanks Ethel."

"Pleasure, Alice." She grinned and leaned back against the bed.

* * *

_**Hey Everyone! So After the Twilight Saga guide came out, the new knowledge of Alice's past inspired me to write about this again, so I decided to change stuff around to match the really history of Alice's life. It isn't precisely the same, but it is similar!**_

**_I hope yo enjoy, please message me for suggestions and what not!_**

**_-MW_**


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